


Wayward Leaves

by LoonyLoomy



Category: Gravity Falls, Over the Garden Wall (Cartoon)
Genre: Christmas, Crossover, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Multi, One Shot Collection, Romance, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-03-03 06:39:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2841662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoonyLoomy/pseuds/LoonyLoomy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Various unrelated short stories I've written for OTGW and GF and posted to Tumblr.</p>
<p>Most recent chapter: Dipper/Wirt - Internet friends say unexpected things during 2am conversations...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Christmas Cheer

**Author's Note:**

> Maybe skip the first fic if you don't want to read a Christmas fic at an unseasonal time~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wirt wakes up early on Christmas morning to the sounds of his brother's excitement and joy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh this is just something I wrote really quickly to say merry Christmas so I'm sorry it's so simple. Hope you all enjoy the holiday, lots of love!

Wirt heard the scrabbling of his little brother early on Christmas morning, rushing to their parents’ room to wake them up and get to unwrapping presents as soon as possible. He stretched out some of his lingering tiredness and smiled, feeling like the eagerness was permeating the air and filling him up with festive cheer.

He got out of bed and opened his door to see Greg rushing towards him. Greg slowed down only enough to prevent himself from bowling his brother over, instead suddenly leaving Wirt with an excitable bundle of energy in his arms. “Early mornings sure do make you happy, huh?”

"It’s Christmas! It’s Christmas! Wirt, today’s Christmas Day!"

"I  _know_ , Greg. I’ve been looking forward to it too.”

"Yeah! We gotta open all our presents, right now, okay? They’ve been sitting there all night in the dark and I know  _I_  wouldn’t be a happy present if my owner didn’t try to open me as soon as possible and show me they loved me.” _  
_

"And the person who gave them. Santa Claus and his reindeers didn’t do all that flying last night for nothing."

"Oh, right! Do you think he liked his scarf?"

"Well, duh. You’re always gonna be needing more warm clothing if you’re spending so much time outside in the middle of winter."

"Mmhmm, I bet there aren’t many people that think to give him that," their mom said, walking out of her bedroom with his step-dad trailing behind. "Much better than mince pies or carrots."

"Woohoo!" Greg stuck both of his arms up; Wirt had to duck his head away to avoid them. He decided to move out of Greg’s way so that they could go downstairs to the living room, taking them two at a time to try and keep up with his brother’s hyperactive dash down.

Greg was breathing heavily by the time he sat down in front of the Christmas tree. The presents sat underneath like patient schoolchildren, all dressed up in their most colourful clothes. Wirt sat down cross-legged next to Greg. “Which one are you gonna open first?”

"Actually, um, I want you to open this one first," he said, his small fingers gripping around a roughly spherical gift with a less-than-perfect wrapping job.

"What’s this?"

"It’s a—! Wait, no, there’s no point to wrapping paper if you’re just gonna  _ask_ , Wirt,” he explained, pushing the gift into Wirt’s hands.

"No, I meant, is this…" His mom and step-dad settled down onto the sofa and watched on, and he wondered again whether this was their doing, or… He turned it around a couple of times, weighty and solid, before deciding to just open it. A grey and orange face painted on a rock looked up at him from the surrounding paper, two mismatched black dots for eyes and a dark grey dot underneath for…that must have been a beak. Beatrice. "You made this for me?"

Wirt met Greg’s eyes, and he swore that the enthusiasm in them was stronger than he’d ever seen for opening his own presents. “Do you like it?”

"Yeah. Yeah, I-I… I love it. It’s wonderful, Greg.  _You’re_  wonderful.” He felt unbearably like he wasn’t expressing himself well enough, but the sunshine was beaming out of Greg’s grin, and he laughed and hugged him to his chest and buried his face into his hair, and maybe that was the best way of expressing himself, anyway. He pulled away and continued, “You have to open mine, now, it’s only fair. And then you can open all of Santa’s.”

Greg’s face was open and cheerful, eyes widening as Wirt pulled out an undefinable shape from the pile of presents. It was flourished with ribbons and a bow, which Greg took care to remove neatly before tearing a large opening into the wrapping paper. A plush stalk-like thing popped out. Wirt couldn’t help but be amused by Greg’s scrunched-up face of confusion. He continued to rip it open until an elephant was revealed, at which point he gasped in delight and looked from it to Wirt to it again with a wide  _o-_ shaped mouth. He jumped up and bounced on the balls of his feet, showing it to his parents in return for sounds of approval and appreciation from both of them. “Wirt, thank you, thank you, thank you!”

He placed the elephant on top of Wirt’s lap and made “pffthffffththff” noises—“He says thank you too.”

"You’re welcome, Greg," he said, petting the plush’s head. "Wait, I meant—hey, maybe he should be called Greg, too? Then you’ll know what it was like for me when Jason Funderburker was called Wirt."

His brother looked like he was hit by an epiphany. “Hey, yeah! I’ll learn the true meaning of common sense and self-identity.”

"And here I was thinking it would lead to a lot of funny misunderstandings," his dad said, tilting his head at Greg.

"That too."

He turned back to Wirt and moved his elephant so its trunk bumped Wirt’s nose. Wirt snorted and shook his head, but dutifully bumped his nose back. Then, he picked Greg the elephant up with both hands, placed it next to the Beatrice rock, and shuffled closer to Greg the little brother.

Greg and Wirt opened the rest of their presents under the watchful gaze of the pair, the bird leaning against the elephant in the same way Greg leaned against Wirt, sharing their joy between them.


	2. Kiss Your Rules Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **For that ficlet thing... Could you do 20 with poetic bee?**
> 
> **20\. breaking the rules**

"Wirt, you okay? You’re doing a good job of being the strong silent type, I’ll admit, but I like the regular Wirt more."

"No, I-I’m—yes. I’m fine." He tried to stop the mantra of  _we’re gonna get caught, we’re gonna get caught, we’re gonna get caught_  from running through his head. And his fingers from running through his hair yet again. It probably wasn’t helping him appear calm and collected in front of Sara. ”Have you found the right key yet?”

"I’ve only got a couple more to try. Look, it’s fine, we’ll be in and out of the classroom in a flash."

Wirt looked to his right and left as she inserted another one—no teachers in sight. That didn’t stop himself from thinking they were just around the corner,  _waiting_  for the two to step inside so they could be given week-long detentions, but the sound of the key turning in the lock and her hand in his did. She smiled at him and pushed the door open.

"I think Mrs. Green just confiscated them because she doesn’t want to show special treatment to Kathleen, right? I mean, it sure is lucky her mom’s the teacher so we can get the candy back, because why would you stop someone from sharing food with people,  _even with_  your daughter, in preference to all the other prescient matters of school policy?” She walked between rows of desks to reach the teacher’s one, where a pack of Hershey’s Kisses sat. “Thanks for coming with me, anyway, Wirt. You want a Kiss to make it up to you?”

"Wh-what?" Wirt said, straightening up quickly. His brain was still occupied by anxieties both about breaking the rules  _and_ by making sure his hands weren’t clammy, so he hadn’t been entirely focused on what Sara had been saying. “Do I want a…?”

Sara’s eyes travelled down to the pack she was now holding in one hand and back up.

"Oh! I…uh…"

Her face softened into a look of affection that made Wirt’s heart rate speed up. She let go of his hand, leaned forward and pressed her lips gently to his, which  _really_  made his heart rate speed up, apparently to accommodate for all the blood that had rushed to his face. In his kiss-induced daze, he was surprised to find one of the chocolates in his palm and Sara looking ready to leave.

"We don’t wanna get caught, do we?"

For a few glorious moments, he’d forgotten all about that. And as they walked out, locked the door behind them and made their way back to their friends, Wirt’s worries paled in comparison to his flustered happiness. He didn’t even freak out when they passed by teachers—much. In the end, none of them looked twice at the couple, and he got to enjoy many more Kisses (and a few more kisses) afterwards.


	3. A Rain Of Sunshine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **36 or 13 or both, please? Thank you!**
> 
> **13\. in the storm  
>  36\. that hurt**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want, you can leave story prompts for me either on [overthegravityfalls](http://overthegravityfalls.tumblr.com/) or in the comments. Mmmm, I have to write a sequel to Some Books Just Swallow You Whole sometime, but yeah, I'll take your requests.
> 
> I don't know if this is "OTGW with occasional GF crossover" or "OTGW and GF and OTGF stories" so leave me prompts for any of them!

Mabel’s sweater was  _so_  waterlogged right now. The unabated rainfall had made the previously excited-looking puppy on it droop down like it was doing an impression of a Basset hound. But Dipper and Wirt had agreed that it would be better to try and get inside rather than stay under a tree with the risk of lightening hitting it, so she ignored how heavy the knitwear felt and kept running.

"I am going to drink a gallon of hot cocoa when we get to the Mystery Shack and no one can convince me otherwise! We’re close now, right, Dipper?"

He sounded out-of-breath when he replied, “Yeah, it should be just up ahead.”

Mabel glanced behind her to check Wirt and Greg were alright. Wirt was holding Greg’s hand tightly, trailing behind the twins to make sure he wasn’t going too fast for his little brother’s littler legs.

She aimed her focus back to the path in front of her, each consecutive step making a squelching sound in the thick mud this storm had made. Waddles was probably loving rolling around in it back home. She channeled him as she leapt gracefully over a fallen tree trunk (her pig would  _totally_  be a graceful tree trunk-jumper), Dipper following close behind. But they were brought to a slippery kind of stop when they heard a shout and a “whomp” sort of sound.

Mabel gasped when she saw Greg lying face down on the ground, a soft “That hurt…” coming out of his mouth. Wirt helped him him into a sitting position gently, concerned etched onto his face. But when Greg looked down at himself, he only smiled and proudly said, “I’m so muddy!”

She giggled as Wirt shook his head and tried to wipe some of it off his face, happy that Greg wasn’t too worse for wear.

"Greg, we need to get you out of this rain quickly or you’ll…you’ll get pneumonia or something," Wirt said in a shaky voice before he swallowed. Mabel guessed that there was something significant behind this, but she didn’t know what that was.

Dipper crouched down in front of Greg, raindrops dripping from his cap, saying, “The Mystery Shack is really close by. You okay to keep going?”

"I-it’s fine, I’m taking him," Wirt mumbled, wrapping his arms around him and rising to his feet. He didn’t even cringe at how much mud was getting on his coat, so Mabel knew this was  _really_  getting to him. He started running, and after a moment, she and Dipper followed. _  
_

Greg gave Mabel a grin from over Wirt’s shoulder. “Wirt doesn’t usually give me free rides.”

Wirt said something to him, but it was quiet enough and raining heavily enough that Mabel couldn’t make much of it out, except “…should have…” and “I’m sorry”.

His little brother gave him some pats, replying in an easier to hear voice, “Don’t worry, I don’t actually mind you not giving me free rides. I’m okay, Wirt, it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

The four of them came out into a clearing, the Mystery Shack standing before them. It was hard to name many other times she’d been this satisfied to see it, and they rushed in and collapsed onto the floor in a wet, messy heap, much to the annoyance of Grunkle Stan.

"I  _told_  you kids there was gonna be a storm today.”

"Sorry, we should’ve listened to you…" Dipper conceded, looking guilty and bedraggled.

He sighed heavily, and continued, “Come on, you might as well have been swimming with how soaked you are, let’s get you dry and in some different clothes.”

It could have been worse—Mabel got her cocoa with extra sugar and marshmallows, Greg looked adorable wearing one of her oversized sweaters, and their brothers spent the day debating the things in Journal Number 3. When she and Wirt had a moment alone, she made sure he was actually okay after being so shaken, and he told her about falling in a lake on Halloween. She covered him and Greg in extra blankets after that, and slapped a few motivational stickers on his face for good measure. He protested, but left them on, so, hey, it seemed like this storm had helped make them better friends, too. What was not to like about torrential rain and dangerous lightening?


	4. 3-Sentence Prompt Fics

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reeeeeally short but I thought I might as well squish all my 3-sentence request fics onto this story because why not!

_Wirt x Dipper, winter setting_

"Man, I really thought you would go crazy for this snow, all poetical and stuff," Dipper said, looking back at the footsteps they’d left as he tried to figure out why Wirt was unusually quiet today.

Wirt pulled his coat around himself more tightly, replying, “I…don’t really like being this cold. You’re much better inspiration than any sort of weather, anyway.”

* * *

 

_Bumbellbee in a hospital_

"I was possessed by an evil spirit, and yet it’s all this modern medicine and machinery that scares me…" Lorna whispered as she touched the tube poking into her skin.

Sara kissed Lorna’s temple. “You’ll be alright, babe—I’m staying here with you to make sure of that.”

* * *

 

_Pinescone, Prom night <3_

Wirt had so many anxieties about prom in the days preceding it: what he’d look like in formal wear, how he’d dance, whether the crowd of people around him would be judging him… But when he first saw Dipper standing there, all suit and tie and handsomeness, every one of them fell away. And it was without hesitation that he took Dipper’s outstretched hand.

* * *

 

_Mabel X Beatrice, modern AU, maybe a first kiss kinda deal?_

Beatrice had spent a long time reacting to Mabel’s optimism, liveliness and love of stickers with abrasiveness and derision.

At some point, it had become a coverup for some rather different feelings—ones that felt too inconceivable to face. Mabel, however, had no trouble doing the same, kissing her right in the middle of an otherwise normal conversation; Beatrice had no qualms about how great she thought optimism and spontaneity were after that.

* * *

 

_Lorna x Wirt kiss on the nose_

Lorna gasped when she answered the door to see Wirt standing before her, unable to stop herself from throwing her arms around him. “Oh, I knew my turtle would come back to me one day,” she said, pulling away just far enough to kiss him on the very tip of his nose; both of them subsequently avoided the other’s eyes with identical blushes and smiles gracing their faces.


	5. Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the prompts:  
> Things you said at 1am  
> Things you said under the stars and in the grass  
> Things you said that made me feel like shit

When Dipper looks up at the stars, he sees lights in the sky that are billions of years old, the vast distances they travelled possible thanks to the unimaginable power of their nuclear fusion. Those associations come first, his birthmark and the trajectories of imagined spaceships he always desperately wished were real following afterwards.

Dipper knows Wirt sees the stars as they are in poetry, literature: for Wirt, they can be love, loss, destiny, so much more than their existence dictates, so he would say. Dipper thinks that it is the science behind them, the very forces driving their existence, that makes them so beautiful and impressive in the first place.

Their differing perspectives mean all the conversations they share stimulate and challenge the other, something Dipper can’t get enough of. Being with Wirt felt fulfilling, like they were pushing each other to grow and learn with every passing day. They had had a steep learning curve getting past their own awkwardness and anxieties to get to this point, but it was worth it now that they could be comfortable with joined hands and a silence between them.

“Dipper?”

“Mm?”

Dipper turns his face away from the cosmos and into the slightly damp grass; it would feel like a step down if he didn’t have an expression of gentle tenderness to look at.

“I…” Wirt’s gaze shifts away from Dipper’s. He takes a moment to continue. “I have something to tell you.”

Not the type of phrase that fills him with confidence. He’s reassured only by a squeeze of his hand, a reminder that Wirt is still here for him, out in the middle of nowhere in the dead of night. He’s the type of boyfriend that wants to spend his Saturday evening driving out to a spot in the forest that reminds the both of them of their childhood, the type who brings Dipper hot cocoa because he knows his taste for herbal teas isn’t shared, the type who hasn’t suggested they go home yet even though it must be close to 1am because he knows Dipper sometimes needs to spend these early hours awake with his thoughts.

So Dipper doesn’t distance himself. He tries to stay resolute rather than fidget with nerves. “What is it?”

Wirt faces the sky again. He takes a deep breath in, a slow breath out. Tension crawls under Dipper’s skin in the interim before he says, “I love you.”

His eyebrows furrow. “I know. I love you too,” he replies, not sure what else to say. Their voices seem smaller in the quiet of the night and the confines of the trees.

“Sorry, that’s…that’s not what I was talking about, I-I, um…just needed you to remember that I do.”

Now he can’t even find anything to break the silence, no thoughts he can grapple into words going through his head. He’s just searching, boring his eyes into Wirt’s countenance to find something that can reassure him that his brain cells don’t all need to be in high alert, and not getting anything from it.

“Okay, Dipper. I’m just gonna say it.” Wirt has difficulty “just saying” things, though, so there’s still hesitation before he gets the words out. “I got accepted by UCLA and I wanna go there.”

“What?!” he says, knowing that the sharp spike of  _betrayal_  that shoots through him is unfounded, but  _damn_ , does it feel like betrayal. As he continues talking, he takes his hand out of Wirt’s and uses it to push himself into a sitting position. “But you said you were—!”

“I know, I know! I know I said I was going to go to the local college and stay with you here, but I-I never thought I would get into UCLA. I-I-I just thought it would be a given that…I couldn’t…” Wirt is sitting up now, too, angled marginally away from Dipper. His hand is running through his hair, one of his most common nervous habits. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It tore me up, making this decision. I wish I didn’t have to.”

Wirt’s head drops down, his arms around his legs like he clearly wants to be smaller and protected from the outside world.

Dipper deflates. He loses the fight in him as quickly as it had come, feeling like a jerk. Wirt had been so stressed about college, having to grow up, find his independence, and he had tried to help him through it as a supportive boyfriend as much as he could. But…he’d spent most of that time thinking they’d still be together. That’s what they’d agreed on. That’s what he _thought_ they’d agreed on.

Then he can’t stand seeing Wirt look like that anymore, so he crawls closer and puts his arm around his shoulders. He remembers back to how Wirt’s eyes lit up when he looked at anything to do with UCLA; Dipper thought he had been excited about Piedmont College too, but when he looks back at it, the reactions between them don’t compare.

“I seriously can’t believe I just made you apologise for telling me such good news…”

Wirt lifts his head, his eyes glassy. Dipper can almost imagine he sees them reflect the constellations above them.

“Congratulations, Wirt,” he says, giving him a small smile.

Wirt freezes—and then he starts babbling. “Look, Dipper, I’m gonna visit you every chance I get, and, and talk to you every day, and send you gifts, and when I get to spend time with you I’ll be  _twice_  as good a boyfriend, no,  _five_  times as good, and I’m gonna…I’m gonna miss you every second you’re not with me…”

Dipper nods, unable to meet Wirt’s eyes when he says that last part. “Yeah. I’m gonna miss you too. So much. But you deserve to go to that college. I know I’m gonna want to go somewhere I feel like I belong next year…”

Dipper suddenly feels hands on his neck, fingers digging in slightly as Wirt angles his face upwards and kisses him. His eyelids flutter close as he grips Wirt’s sweater and kisses back, taking the opportunity to appreciate what he has: a boyfriend who will always be there for him, no matter how far away he is.

As their lips move together, one of the pieces of knowledge Wirt has imparted on Dipper floats into his mind.

_Doubt thou the stars are fire;_  
_Doubt that the sun doth move;_  
 _Doubt truth to be a liar;_  
 _But never doubt I love._

That was Shakespeare, right?


	6. Perceptions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper/Pacifica
> 
> 17\. Things you said that I wish you hadn’t  
> 20\. Things you said that I wasn’t meant to hear.
> 
> This chapter's rated T for swearing and...meanness.

“Hey, Pacifica!” a voice behind her said, the tone carrying a sharp undercurrent like a hidden knife.

Still, she stopped and turned around, narrowing her eyes at the girl she used to hang out with—not ever describable as a friend, but…someone who used to be more amenable than she was now.

“What do you want, Thelma?”

The girl stood with a wide stance and her hands on her hips, smirking at her. “Saw you and that nerd together  _again_  yesterday. Table all to yourselves, there in the diner.”

“…Dipper? What’s it to you?” she said defensively.

“Oh, nothing…” Thelma inspected her nails, “…just can’t believe you’re actually  _indulging_  that pathetic crush he has on you.”

Pacifica bristled. Nobody would have ever dared to speak to her like that back when she had the wealth and prestige of the Northwest family behind her. She didn’t care that people like Thelma and Ingrid had turned on her and refused to give her any help, but the sense that she deserved  _respect_  was hard to shake after a childhood of seeing yourself as better than anyone else.

“Remind me again how that little school production you were in went? Oh, that’s right, you tripped on your dress and fell off the stage on opening night. So  _graceful_  of you,” she drawled. It was an easy target to go for, but hell if she wasn’t up for taking it anyway.

Thelma moved more quickly than Pacifica could react to. Suddenly she was in her personal space, yanking her designer jacket open, where an unassuming badge sat on her shirt declaring “Hello! My name is PACIFICA”. She held a tight grip on the silk fabric, her eyes so close and full of poison that it scared Pacifica a little. “Don’t you  _dare_  try to insult me when  _you’re_  the one working a shitty supermarket job because you’re no longer the precious little princess who gets everything she wants from her parents.”

She let go of Pacifica roughly, breaking eye contact as she looked over Pacifica’s shoulder for a moment. She turned back with a glare.

“I hope he pays you well. All that time you spend making yourself look better deserves at least eight dollars an hour. Skank.”

Her face burning with shame, rage blinded Pacifica to reason. Her hands clenched into fists. It didn’t matter that they were in the middle of this busy mall, she was  _not_  going to be spoken to like that,  _ever._  “I don’t care about him  _or_ you, or  _what anyone_  thinks of me!” she shouted. “You think  _he’s_  a worthless human being? Then look at how much worse  _you_ are! You’re not worth what I can find on the bottom of my shoes, Thelma!”

Thelma flicked her hair back and smiled wide. Confusion tainted Pacifica’s anger until she said, “Glad he gets to be reminded of the kind of person you  _really_  are.” She laughed and walked away from her.

“What…?” she said quietly.

“Pacifica?”

Pacifica spun around. There stood Dipper, in all his shaggy-haired, unshaven-faced, broken-hearted-expression’d glory. Oh  _shit._

“Dipper!” He shook his head and started to turn away. “Dipper, wait!” She grabbed his arm desperately and felt him jolt at her touch.

“Pacifica, I can’t deal with this right now, just…let me go,” he said. The hollowness of his voice made her feel like her heart was cracking.

“No, no, you don’t  _understand_ , I was just—”

“Yes, I do,” he said, abruptly forceful. “You had some bad things said about you, and you lashed out so some insignificant random girl would think more highly of you at the expense of someone who… Fuck, Pacifica…” He refused to look at her, his face scrunching up like he was trying not to cry.

No, no, no, no, no, this couldn’t be happening, she couldn’t be ruining things this badly, she needed to—“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Dipper, please believe me, I really do care about you. I didn’t mean anything I said about you!” Her fingernails dug into his skin as she held on tighter.

“Anything you said when we’re not alone, I’m guessing you mean. Look, I get it, you want to present yourself a certain way to the world because of your upbringing, you say things and do things you would never do in privacy. I don’t need to be a detective or a mystery hunter to see that.” 

“I…”

“Doesn’t mean I have the ability to deal with it.” He took in a steeling breath and faced her. “You’re not used to what it’s like for everyone to shun you and how you live your life.  _I am._  I moved on from it and I can’t go back to feeling like I’m someone people need to avoid, to turn on, isolate…” Dipper’s head dropped down and he sighed.

Pacifica’s hands went up to cup his face, the beginnings of a beard scratching her palms. His cheeks were warm, and Pacifica wished this was something she had taken the step to do before…this. This wasn’t how she wanted to cross the barrier of friendship into something more.

Nonetheless, she was reassured when one of Dipper’s hands came up and laid on top of her own, and his deep brown eyes shifted from the floor towards her.

“I’m not ashamed of you, Dipper. Or of Mabel…” She remembered back to the start of the summer when they got served by her at the supermarket. Every clipped phrase and standoffish action she gave them was returned by enthusiasm and support from Mabel, incredibly managing to make her smile in what she saw as the most humiliating position she could be found in. Everyone else either mocked her or ignored her if they saw her in there. She thought that they must have seen that and that was why she and the Pines had become closer friends than any other summer they were here. And she never would forget how Dipper helped give her the courage to take that first act of defiance against her parents, all those years ago. “I don’t ever want you to feel like I’m ashamed. You’ve done more for me than anyone else.”

Dipper nodded, but his features were still taut, mouth in a hard line and a tension in his expression.

Pacifica overcame her apprehension and pulled him down, kissing him. Their lips stayed pressed together for a few moments before Dipper wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to him. Pacifica didn’t even think of who might see them there, a relationship now brazenly out in the open; she just kept her eyes shut and enjoyed how much her spirits soared with Dipper pressed against her.

They separated, both of them breathing a little more heavily than usual. Pacifica’s hands moved from his cheeks to his hair. Her face broke into a smile and she said, “You need to shave. And comb your hair.”

Dipper gave her an adorably offended expression. “Seriously? You think it’s okay to insult me again  _already_?”

“For our  _date_. Can’t have my boyfriend looking so scruffy in a fine dining establishment.”

His eyes brightened and he gave her a half-smile. “Oh. Right. That’s okay, then.  _'Boyfriend'_ —I can work with that.”


	7. Too Many Variables

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pinescone, "Things you said with no space between us"
> 
> Rated M for implied sexual content

“I’m sor—”

“No.”

“I just, I wanted it to be—”

“Seriously, man, if you try to apologise or insinuate you were at fault in any way, I’m gonna be so mad at you.”

Wirt huffed, but didn’t say anything more. He settled his head into the bed’s pillows more comfortably and stared off at nothing for a while.

It just…hadn’t gone the way he wanted it to. Maybe he could have expected that given his two warring sides of “It needs to be like it is in poetry, beautiful and seamless and in the heat of the moment” and “There are so many things that could go wrong and I’m going to think about and get anxious about every one of them” in his mind, but…still. This was meant to be a pivotal moment in their relationship, a step neither of them had crossed before with another person, an expression of love and trust in one of its deepest forms, and—and it had stuttered and come to a halt in such a jarring way.

He had felt sore and nervous and embarrassed and Dipper had been right in the middle of things when he said, “Can…can we stop?” and Dipper didn’t seem to know what to do after he asked Wirt if he was alright and pulled out and it wasn’t  _meant_  to be awkward like that and—

“Dude, I know you’re freaking out right now, and that’s basically as bad as apologising,” Dipper interjected. He flipped onto his front to give Wirt a look, a little nervousness in his upturned eyebrows and a little hardness in his dark eyes. “I don’t want you feeling guilty on my behalf, okay? ‘Cause, like, what kind of a guy would it make me if I thought it would have been better if you’d stayed quiet and gone through with something you didn’t want to do?”

Wirt tensed at the idea that that’s what he’d been implying to Dipper. It was true that both of them could be inconsiderate; they had the tendency to occasionally forget there was a world outside of their own thoughts, and that actions they carried out for personal gain could hurt others, but in that same sense, they could understand what each other was thinking pretty well and, yeah, there was no way Dipper would ever want anything like that.

“Sorry,” he replied. After a moment, he jolted, and started saying, “No, wait, not about that—I was talking about how I-I didn’t mean to say you wanted me to—I wanted it to feel right, that’s all and—and actually I’m really glad I have you as a boyfriend because I felt relaxed enough to tell you what I was thinking and there’s not a lot of people who can make me feel the same way, s-so, thank you.”

Dipper paused, then nodded, and ran a hand across Wirt’s chest before pulling him into a loose hold and situating his head in the crook of Wirt’s neck. Wirt let out a breath and ran his fingers through Dipper’s thick curls, appreciating this level of intimacy as an indicator that things seemed to be forgiven.

“Would it make you feel better to think about how we might do this differently next time? So you enjoy it more?”

“Uh…like what?” Wirt questioned with some hesitance in his voice.

“Like, other positions we could try. I mean—I thought that was the simplest thing for our first time, right? But I bet you’d appreciate it more if we were facing each other,” he said, brows furrowing. “Or maybe I should be focusing more on stuff like angles. Hitting your sweet spot, or whatever.”

Wirt couldn’t help his lips quirking upwards into a smile—Dipper’s scientific approach was sort of endearing. “Are you turning me into an experiment? Like…independent variable: position, dependent variable: amount of pleasure produced?”

Dipper laughed, the sound sending a wave of relief through Wirt. “Yeah, man, I’ll have to fuck you the same way at least three times to make sure the results are reliable,” he affirmed with a grin.

“Oh my gosh,” Wirt said, covering his face with his hand to temper the blush that had blossomed on his cheeks. Dipper snickered again, which, of course, made him blush harder, but his boyfriend just pulled his hand away and leaned their foreheads together, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. That finally got Wirt to break and erupt into giggles.

It was in a casual way that Dipper swung his leg over Wirt and therefore situated his body on top of him, everything now aligned from their foreheads to their… Well. It wasn’t like they had gotten dressed again.

Wirt met Dipper’s eyes and didn’t see any pressure to do something in them, only contentedness. He glanced down at their chests and decided he was happy at them being this close together, and willing to do more. Wirt pulled the younger boy’s lips down onto his own. He kept his fingers buried in the locks of hair just by Dipper’s ears for a while as he kissed him, then had them skirting across the skin of his arms, back, sides; a few stray giggles interrupted their making out when he passed by ticklish areas. It was so sweet that he could barely recall how he’d felt not too long ago.

This was more familiar territory to them, anyway: they’d already done things like this a few times before talking about how to further on their experiences. The fact that they didn’t have a fixed ‘end goal’ to work towards right now made Wirt feel a lot less worried about meeting expectations and doing things right, so he simply did what felt natural and wrapped his arms around Dipper’s lower back, getting him pressed even more closely to his own body. Spending that time kissing had helped get them going again and he gave a tentative roll of his hips to test how they were feeling, earning a gorgeous sound from Dipper.

Wirt smiled in satisfaction, but then Dipper took a hold of the hands on him and pushed them down onto the mattress. He started shuffling back until he was sat in between Wirt’s legs. Wirt watched on as Dipper licked the palm of one of his hands, but when Dipper started  _using it_ , his head dropped down onto the pillows and he let out a sharp gasp. Fighting against the automatic response to keep his eyes closed, he opened them, seeing a strangely concentrated expression on Dipper’s face.

“Ah—…Dipper, wh…” was all he managed to get out before his words dissolved like condensation into the cold air.

“I know I sucked at doing the whole sex thing, so I’m gonna have to make it up to you like this instead…” he mumbled in an almost blasé tone to mask the insecurities rife in his words.

Oh god, it wasn’t an expression of concentration—it was one of apprehension. Wirt could see that now. Christ, had his own anxieties been blinding him to Dipper’s for all this time? He thought he’d seemed pretty okay and confident in himself, but…no, of course his mind had immediately turned to how to do things better… Oh, Dipper…

Wirt sat up and grabbed a hold of his boyfriend’s wrist to focus on him instead of what he was doing. “Wait, Dipper, let me just say that it wasn’t you that made me want to stop. I-I-I just, I realised I wasn’t ready yet. It was all so new, and that—that would have been the case regardless.”

His face only softened fractionally. Wirt still had convincing to do.

“A-and I love you regardless, too. I’m sorry I told you to stop; I didn’t even consider how that must have made you feel about yourself…”

Dipper’s eyes clenched shut for a second as he said, “No—shit—that’s exactly what I was trying to  _stop_  you from apologising for. Fuck, I can’t believe I said something that stupid and got us back to square one and now I’m ruining things for you again…”

“What? Dipper, hang on, you shouldn’t—you always put yourself in this, this position of responsibility and therefore assume everything that happens is down to you, but it—it shouldn’t be. It’s not,” Wirt pleaded. Why, why, why did their accursed anxieties have to drag them down so often? It turned their temperaments into creatures of the sea, endlessly struggling against the threads that tried to pull them into despair. It got so difficult trying to deal both with his own and his partner’s, even though there were a million things that made this relationship worth the hassle.

“Yeah, well… Sometimes it’s like you’re assuming I’m gonna react to things you’ve done in the worst way possible, and all I want is to deserve your trust, and…trying to help you out with, you know—leadership, I guess?—seems like a good way of, uh, doing that. And I wanna make you happy…” he said as he trailed a hand up Wirt’s arm. He wasn’t meeting Wirt’s eyes, instead looking more in the direction of his chest. “But it feels like all I’ve done tonight is try to start things only for them to come to nothing without giving you what I want to give you.”

It was Dipper who had set a date for when this would happen (the date of a party that Dipper’s roommate and most of the rest of the dorm were going to, so they had some privacy); it was Dipper who had bought the things they needed; and it was Dipper who had mostly directed what they were doing when they were in the midst of things. That had seemed perfectly logical at the time—Dipper was adventurous where Wirt was recessive in his tendencies (one of the things that had drawn him to the freshman in the first place)—but maybe it wasn’t the best way for them to go about this after all. Even though worrying came as easily to Wirt as breathing did, he didn’t want Dipper feeling like he needed to earn the trust that he already had in abundance. Guilt pressed itself into his mind as he thought about how Dipper must have felt like he was under more pressure as the ‘dominant’ one in their relationship. Wirt came to the conclusion that he needed to change this. As soon as possible. Now.

He tilted Dipper’s head up by his chin, irises the colour of walnut wood greeting him, looking slightly forlorn. “Let me show you how much I care, okay? It’s not like it’s all about me or like you’re the only one who wants to make their boyfriend feel good.”  _Even if I’ve done a bad job of showing that thus far,_  he added in his head. “I trust you with all that I am, Dipper, and you’ve already demonstrated this night that you deserve that a thousand times over.”

Wirt held onto Dipper’s shoulder and waist and manoeuvred him onto his back on the bed, Wirt’s bangs hanging down as he took in the sight. He looked somewhat wide-eyed, maybe curious or a little reverent, Wirt wasn’t sure. He took it as encouraging, though, and kissed Dipper deeply, the thumb on his boyfriend’s waist making small circular motions. Wirt felt arms lace around his back and sighed with gratification. One of his hands moved down Dipper’s stomach, edging tantalisingly close to where he imagined Dipper wanted it, before it continued down his thigh and leg. Little keening sounds left Dipper’s mouth and Wirt lapped them up in the kiss with his lips and his tongue, giving a low moan of his own.

He finally broke away from the kiss to focus on what he really wanted to do; Wirt couldn’t help himself from starting off slowly, though, if only to hear the adorable sounds of protestation that Dipper made. He snorted when Dipper hit him in the side with his foot, replying, “Okayokayokayokay!” and speeding up his hand’s movement.

Wirt lifted his head and his eyes caught on the lube and condoms still sitting on the bedside table. When he started reconsidering their current positions, with how he was almost draped across Dipper as he held himself up with his arm, he got a little distracted from what he was doing.

“Wiiiiiiiiirt,” Dipper whined, “enough with the teasing already, jeez!”

He turned his head back. “Oh, um, I was just wondering…” Wirt begun. Dipper squinted at him critically. “Well…what if I was the one who…” He moved his weight to his elbows and held up both his hands, sticking out his index finger and awkwardly jabbing it at his fist a couple of times. He hoped he didn’t look as embarrassed as he felt about doing that. Probably did.

Dipper’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Really? You wanna try that?”

Wirt started double backing on his words. “No, not if you think it’s a bad—it’s probably a bad id—I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said it, never mind, forget I said anything,” Wirt rambled, his hands dropping down onto the mattress besides Dipper’s chest.

“No, no, no! I dunno, man, I didn’t consider it because I thought you’d prefer—like, I don’t know, it’s kinda stupid now that I think about it, presuming anything without trying it… We should try it.”

“Huh?”

“Well, I’m up for it,” Dipper shrugged with a huge grin on his face. “…Get it? ‘Cause—” he nodded down at himself.

“Oh my god.”

Dipper cackled with laughter as Wirt groaned and shook his head ashamedly. While he calmed down from the ‘brilliance’ of his ‘witty’ ‘joke’, Wirt attempted to temper down his worries.

As it turned out, he didn’t have much to be worried about. They took their time with it, figured out what felt good for both of them, laughed off a few things and gasped in pleasant surprise at other things, and it generally turned out a lot better than expected.

Who would have thought he’d be a top?


	8. Night Owls

“You tired?” Dipper asked after seeing Wirt yawn yet again. It, like many things about Wirt, was totally endearing and it brought a smile to Dipper's face.

“Well, yeah. Alas, not all of us can learn the ways of the night owl like you can, Dip.” Wirt leaned his head on his hand and smiled at the computer. “I mean, if...maybe if I was in California and you were in Massachusetts, this would be easier since it's earlier over there, but, then, well, it would be easier if we were _both_ living in one of those places and that—that's not a thing, um, sadly.” Wirt frowned. Maybe he was more tired than he realised, rambling on like that.

“Mmmm. You should probably, like, go to sleep...at some point...” He considered this. “But if you _can_ stay up later...that would be...you know, cool.”

Wirt laughed and scrubbed at his eyes. “And now I don't want to go. Oh, boy, you're too good at convincing me to do what you want. Like...luring me into staying up until five in the morning reading about conspiracy theories on that weird site you found and, and, and making me join that poetry society, all from two-and-a-half thousand miles away.”

He still remembered the pang of longing he experienced when he first looked up the distance between them.

Dipper leaned back into his chair, saying, “When you're as charming as me, it just comes naturally,” with a grin and a wink.

Wirt blushed, but in the dark room and with the quality of his webcam, he hoped Dipper couldn't see that. “Y-you're an idiot. I, too, am _also_ an idiot, clearly, for staying friends with you for so long.”

“Yeah, man, especially since internet friends living on the other side of the country are a hell of a lot harder to hang out with than friends from school.”

He sighed. “No kidding.”

Dipper stopped for a moment at the sudden change in Wirt's demeanour. He straightened, the tone of his voice turning softer. “I think it's worth it though,” he said. After a small pause, he continued, “for this. For us. You know.”

“Uh...y-yeah,” Wirt replied, floundering for words. “I—of course it is. You're...you're my best friend.” _The most important person in the world to me._ He wished the thought of loving someone so far away wasn't so terrifying, so that, even in moments like this, when it seemed...almost as if Dipper might feel the same way...he didn't feel the need to push away any thought of the possibility that they could actually _be_ something together.

He just smiled quickly before the expression was lost in another yawn. God, he was tired...

Dipper tilted his head to one side, feeling a little guilty. “Sorry, man, I was just being dumb when I told you to stay up. You should go to bed, seriously.”

Wirt squinted at the little time displayed on his computer screen. He mentally groaned when he realised it was already two AM. “...Right. Yeah. Sleeping. Okay.”

Dipper chuckled. “No more waxing lyrical phrases or whatever? Just one-word sentences? Yeah, you definitely need sleep.”

He hummed in agreement as he fought the desire to close his eyes. “Mmmm'kay. I'm gonna...go. Yep.” He closed a few of the tabs he'd had opened, making sure there wasn't anything important he'd forgotten about. Distracted by his task and his state of mind, he absently said, “I'll talk to you tomorrow and everything, hope you have a good night. I love you.”

“Heh, yeah, I—what?”

“What?”

They looked at each other without saying anything.

Then, simultaneously, “Did you just—?” “W-wait, I meant, I just—...”

Wirt's wide eyes stared ahead in horror as he spluttered out, “I-I-I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, oh god, okay, _BYE!”_

He slammed his finger down on the 'Hang up' button, completely ignoring Dipper's increasingly frantic objections, and walked away from the computer without turning it off: his need to pace was _urgent_.

“Ohhhh my god, this can't be happening, I _didn't_ just say that to him, I-I-I just...” He whimpered. His hand ruffled up his hair and the stinging sound of messages coming from computer, and then of an incoming call, made him grip the strands between his fingers in utter anxiety. He chanced a glance back at the screen and whimpered again.

In California, Dipper wasn't doing much better.

“ _Wirt,_ pick up the goddamn call, _pick it up pick it up pick it up!_ For _fuck's sake you can't just lay that on me and then leave without hearing that I lo—_ ohhh, Wirt! Hey...!” he said, instantly going from intense to a kind flustered casualness that wasn't so much held by a thread as it was held by a material micro-engineered to be as thin and delicate as possible.

Wirt sat there like a boy in the principle's office. “...Hey,” he said eventually. “Soooo... I kind of let my tiredness get to me, you know, and none of us are, are uh...are very good at acting clear-headed when we're tired, right? Y-yeah. So, um...”

“I love you too.”

“...we don't need to... Wait, what?”

Dipper's heart was beating at what felt like two hundred beats per minute, but he went against his nerves to beam at Wirt. “I love you too.”

Blink. Blink blink. “Oh.”

“Yyyyyyep.”

Smile. “ _Oh.”_

“I know!”

“But—!”

“No, hey, don't worry, I know this is not an ideal situation for this kind of thing but we'll figure something out, right? Oh my god, Wirt. _I love you._ ”

“You...love me...”

He nodded emphatically. “Yeah!”

Wirt let out a breath and started smiling wider. “I-I love you too. Oh, wow.”

Dipper wished he could take a hold of Wirt's face and pull that adorable expression onto his lips, or just sweep him up into a delighted hug, or _something_ , but... Oh man, who cared? They loved each other and he couldn't name a moment he'd been happier.

“Well, that's _one_ way to make me feel more awake,” Wirt mused. He couldn't quite pull his mind away from what this would mean for the future, but right now, all he wanted to do was share his joy with this ridiculous, incredible person.

“All part of my master plan,” he said with another wink.

And, like before, Wirt blushed. “...Yeah, don't overdo it, Frankenstein, or you might end up with a monster on your hands. I-I mean, I was upset with you for like a _week_ after that five AM gambit you pulled, remember?”

Dipper raised an eyebrow and looked at Wirt with half-open eyes.

“...That doesn't make it better. Nope. Maybe a little bit. But only...oh, gosh, you have no idea how you're making me feel right now.” Wirt blanched and looked away.

A warm feeling settled into the pit of Dipper's stomach and he reverted away from his confident exterior. “Wirt...”

Wirt pursed his lips and refused to move his head.

“You're so fucking adorable, dude.”

It was another two hours before Wirt pulled himself away from the computer, during which time they established that yes, they were going to call themselves boyfriends, no, Wirt did _not_ like to be wooed when he was meant to be annoyed at Dipper, and, yes, he actually _totally_ liked to be wooed when he was meant to be annoyed at Dipper.

 


End file.
